‘I want to know why my death would bother you so.’
Moonlight spilled over him, illuminating his face. She swallowed back the tears. It was too late to guard her heart from him. The thought of Ó Banníon striking a death blow against this man, the father of her child, quite simply devastated her.
She was in love with him.
‘It would be a waste of my healing,’ she lied. ‘I went to all the trouble to mend your bones, when you only intend to get yourself killed.’
‘Is that the only reason?’ he asked, raising his palm to her cheek. He wiped away the tears, his touch burning deep into her heart. She wanted so badly to go into his arms, to feel his warmth surrounding her.
She gathered herself together. ‘No. It’s not the only reason.’
Not awaiting a reply or an excuse, she turned from him. Quickening her strides, she left him standing alone. Her blood pounded in her veins, her face crimson with embarrassment. She hadn’t wanted to admit that she cared, especially when the only feelings he held for her were lust.
She blinked through the tears, knowing that nothing she did would turn him from the path he’d chosen.
In the shadows, she heard the sound of movement, but did not look up. She had humbled herself enough tonight. If Connor wanted to speak more to her, he could do so in the privacy of the sick hut.
A strong hand covered her mouth, another hand reaching for her breast. Shocked, Aileen dropped the torch. Another man picked it up, a stranger she hadn’t seen before.
The man holding her tore at herléine, and Aileen fought against him, freeing her mouth. He held her fists, his grip bruising.
‘Connor!’ she shouted. ‘Help me!’
The man jerked her savagely off her feet, knocking her to the ground. He pinned her, his heavy body pressing her down. Aileen screamed, and saw Connor draw his sword. The other assailant blocked him, the metal clanging. Seconds later, her attacker released her. He picked up the torch and swung it at Connor. The two men circled him, one meeting Connor’s sword, the other moving behind. Aileen stumbled to her feet, searching for a rock or a weapon.
Nothing. She ran toward one of the men, calling out a warning to Connor. The other villain struck a vicious blow, and the sword crashed from Connor’s hands. He ducked to avoid the slash of a fiery torch, rolling away from the men. When he reached for the sword, his right hand could not raise the weapon.
‘Run!’ he gritted out, rising to his feet. He darted past one of the fighters, narrowly avoiding the slice of a sword.
The next moments moved in a blur. Aileen saw another figure racing toward them. Metal clashed against metal, and the man howled in pain as the blade slashed his skin.
She saw Riordan, wrenching an attacker away from Connor. His fist connected with the assailant’s face in a solid blow, blood dripping down. The other man appeared dazed, hardly struggling.
Aileen picked up the fallen torch, holding the flames as a weapon.
‘Get out of here,’ Riordan commanded to the attackers, lifting his sword as if to strike a killing blow. In the firelight, his fierce visage appeared barbaric. The men did not argue, but fled.
Then he turned, and the cruelty disappeared. ‘Are you all right?’ he asked gently.
Aileen held the torn pieces of herléinetogether, trying to shield herself from his gaze. ‘Yes.’
He pulled her against him, his heavy body protective. ‘It’s all right. No harm was done.’ He stroked her hair, and Aileen trembled in his embrace. She wanted to pull away, but his firm grip would not allow it. In the darkness, she saw Connor rise to his feet. He said nothing to the pair, but continued on toward her land.
It was then that Aileen noticed they were nowhere near Riordan’s hut. How had he heard the attack? It was late at night. Discomfort festered in her thoughts.
She was grateful, but at last she extracted herself from his arms. ‘Thank you for your aid. How did you come to be here?’
Riordan shrugged. ‘One of the lambs wandered out of the pen, and I came to look for it. I suppose it was Fortune that made me hear your need.’
He leaned in and touched his forehead to hers. ‘I couldn’t bear it if anything ever happened to you, Aileen.’
‘Forgive me, Riordan.’ She ran a few paces away, her stomach burning. The effects of the wine curdled her insides, coupled with her fear. Her knees buckled, but though she clutched her middle, the contents of her stomach remained where they were. Her head spun with dizziness, and she forced herself not to be sick. Riordan helped her back up, but she couldn’t stop shaking.
‘I’ll walk you home,’ he said.
She let him, her mind numb. Was Connor all right? He’d disappeared, not speaking a word to either of them. When she tried to remember if he’d been hurt, the events blurred. Riordan was speaking to her throughout the journey home, and she was dimly aware of responding.
When they reached the door, he tried to take her into his arms. She accepted his embrace, for her legs would not hold steady. She drew balance from him, still trembling.
